led to do more than draw
forth a tremendous growl. Another fur-trader, aided by Larry, came to
the assistance of the first, and, by their united power, plucked Bruin
out of the hole like a cork out of a bottle. He turned with fury on his
enemies, two of whom sprang back, overturning Larry in the act. At that
moment one of the fur-traders, a stalwart Canadian, leaped upon the
bear, grasped him by the throat, and tried to strangle him. One of the
others, seeing this, caught at the brute's legs and tumbled him on his
side, for which he was rewarded with a scratch which tore his right arm
open from the elbow to the wrist. The hands of the stout Canadian were
at the same time severely lacerated by the brute's claws. During the
brief moments in which this struggle lasted, Big Ben had leaped from his
steed; detached the stout line which always hung at his saddle-bow; made
a noose as deftly as if he had been a British tar or a hangman, and
passed it quickly over the bear's muzzle. Drawing it tight he took a
turn round its neck, another round its fore-legs, and a third round the
body. After this the work of subjugation was easy, and Bruin was
finally reduced to slavery.

We know not, good reader, what you may think of this incident, but we
beg to assure you that, in its essence, it is a fact, and that that bear
was afterwards sent to England to suck its paws in a menagerie, and
delight the eyes and imaginations of an admiring public.

Again we change the scene to the heart of the Rocky Mountains, in which,
after many days of toil and trouble, heat and cold, hunger and thirst,
difficulty and danger, our travellers found themselves at the close of a
bright and beautiful day.

"I think," said Will Osten, reining up by the side of a copse which
crowned the brow of an eminence, "that this seems a good camping place."

"There is not a better within ten mile of us," said Big Ben,
dismounting. "This is the spot I have been pushing on for all day, so
let us to work without delay. We have a hard day before us to-morrow,
and that necessitates a hard feed an' a sound sleep to-night. Them's
the trapper's cure for all ills."

"They cure many ills, doubtless," observed Will, as he removed the
saddle from his jaded steed.

Larry, whose duty it was to cut firewood, remarked, as he administered
his first powerful blow to a dead tree, that "grub and slumber at night
was the chief joys o' life, and the only thing that could be comp